Playing to the death and cheating on you

And she curled up beside him, her whole body was red and sweaty, like a cooked shrimp. 【26nbsp;】

He wrapped his arms around her and held her in his arms.

The aftertaste of happiness is still wandering around, extremely relaxing and comfortable.

Fang understands how important it is for a man to have a partner who is like-minded, a partner who is perfectly matched in soul, in the details of life, even in body, and in creating mutual happiness.

May go to heaven, may also go to hell.

Finding a good woman is the greatest wealth in a man's life.

At that time, her chest was all attached to his chest.

It was a sense of closeness, without blemish, without concealment, without distance.

The frequency of each other's heartbeats is exactly the same.

He suddenly understood that the reason why he liked her so much was because of him—no matter how many people he has experienced and how many sails he has seen, there will always be only one person in this world who is in harmony with your heartbeat and frequency.

It's your luck that you found it.

If you lose it, you will never be able to come back.

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It's night, and the red candle is burning high.

The two played for a long time, and finally they were so tired that they fell asleep deeply.When the new emperor opened his eyes, it was almost dawn, which was the darkest time of the day.The red candle had already been extinguished, and Nuo Da's room was empty and strangely gloomy.

He rubbed his eyes, feeling a little strange.

After a long while, a tinge of whiteness appeared in the eastern sky, dimly projected on the window, and he suddenly understood the reason for his strangeness: many years before this, he was afraid of the dark, and every night he always slept with the palace lantern on.If you don't, you won't be able to sleep all night, no matter how tired you are, you won't be able to sleep well.

Only since tonight, the lights have been turned off long ago, yet he slept so deeply and soundly that he never even had a dream.

He subconsciously stretched out his hand, but his movement was hindered: a parasite was firmly clinging to his chest, his arms were tightly wrapped around his waist, and the black hair was scattered and messy to cover his face.

He heard her deep and subtle sleeping sound, which was strange and novel at the same time.

Is it because of this woman that I can sleep so soundly?

Or, is it because of the many days of being ravaged in the "Little Black House" that I enjoy it so much?

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